So keen is this appreciation of spiritual aloofness, that it is hopeless for anybody to attempt to offer them material assistance, who does not share that same passion. Until this underlying fact is recognised, all attempts at what is known as rescue work will be unavailing.

The third class of destitute⁠—the itinerant match-vendors⁠—rarely come to the one and twopenny type of lodging house. They simply have not the means. They go to the unlicensed doss house, which still secretly flourishes in the backways of the city. They go also to a huge shelter in Whitechapel, concerning which I shall have much to say. But be they prostitute, office cleaner, or matchseller⁠—whether they pay a few pence or a larger sum⁠—they all suffer from the same crying and shameful injustice; the inadequacy of accommodation, the lack of proper bathrooms, the glaring inequality which supplies the outcast male with the decencies of life and denies them to women.